“Come, Lieth,” he chuckled. “I shall show you our strong room. On the way down, we shall hear the details of Corey’s escape. His report should prove of value—”
“Wait!” Corey blurted the word harshly. “Don’t show Lieth anywhere, chief! It’s you that he’s double-crossing.”
The Condor stopped short. He glared fiercely at the chauffeur. Delland stared in alarm. Lieth had risen from his chair; he was rooted and his face showed puzzlement.
“I didn’t escape,” spoke Corey, his fists half clenched. “A guy named Vincent let me out. One that was up in the office with this palooka” — he indicated Lieth — “and a Fed, Marquette, operating with the bunch.
“I was told to come here, faking it like an escape. That’s why those guys fired at me down by the gate. I’m supposed to be let off easy after the jig is up. That’s my price for helping Lieth pull a fast one.
“I’ll prove it to you, chief. You know what I was to do here? Hand you a phony story; then wait until I had a chance to slip a note to Lieth. Well, it’s you I’m giving the note to, chief” — Corey produced Harry’s envelope — “and you’re the one that can read it.”
“Call in the others,” rasped The Condor, harshly. “Sit down, Lieth. Frisk him, Corey. Take his gun.”
Lieth started a wild protest; Corey pounced on him and gained his revolver. Delland had been ready to aid. Seeing Corey’s success, the secretary went out to summon the other members of the band.
“Code,” sneered The Condor, as he drew a sheet of paper from the envelope. “A crude one. Merely filled with dummy letters, to confuse the reader. I suppose, Lieth, that you and Marquette did not have time to arrange a better mode of communication.
“Take these diamonds, Delland” — the secretary had returned; others were filing in with him — “and put them in the strong room. Tell Toklar to place them in the special containers. He will understand your gestures.
“A clever bit of business” — The Condor’s tone was scornful; he was translating the crude message as he spoke — “sending in real diamonds in hope of bluffing me! Well, Lieth, you came close to succeeding.”
“It’s no double cross, chief,” blurted Lieth, half up from his chair. “Honest, I’m not in with Marquette—”
“Sit down!” snarled Corey, jabbing the revolver barrel into the traitor’s ribs.
Lieth subsided. The Condor had finished his work with the message. His face was not pleasant. Its evil, vulturelike expression had accentuated in the light. Looking up, Treft viewed his henchmen.
“This message,” he announced, harshly, “is addressed to Lieth. It is signed by Marquette. Corey was bribed to pass it along. I shall read it verbatim.”
“‘Dear Lieth: Four of the seven deputies were wounded. Two men have taken them to Southbridge, leaving us but one. With Brock, Vincent and myself, we are only four.
“‘Vincent is going into Paulington; he may bring back three or four to join us. But our best men are gone. We are hopelessly weak. We are releasing Corey; he will deliver you this message secretly.
“‘We rely upon you to continue the bluff that we tried to create: namely, that our numbers are strong enough to resist an attack. By morning, there will be more men from Southbridge. We will let them be seen along the fence to prove your statements.
“‘Learn all you can, as I will send for operatives tomorrow. Our next attack will begin at ten thirty tomorrow night. We are counting upon you and Corey for evidence after we raid. Marquette.’”
RIPPING the paper into shreds, The Condor glared at Lieth. Treft’s fury was terrible. Lieth cowered as the fierce-eyed man stepped to the side of the desk.
“No, no!” pleaded the traitor. “I swear I have told you the truth! There were thirty men; I’m positive they can get more—”
“Holding us here trapped,” snarled Treft. “When we have the swag ready for our get-away. On this, the night of the twelfth. Thirty men! Bah! A mere half dozen whom we can annihilate!”
“But Burton Covell told me to come here—”
“Covell talked to you; yes. But you passed the word on to Marquette. You framed it with him, to get in here on the last night before the thirteenth. Bringing swag; playing your part in a fake attack. Getting in with us, to hold us here, knowing that tomorrow we would be gone.”
Treft shot out a claw and gripped the revolver that Corey held. He plucked it from the chauffeur’s grasp and leveled the weapon straight toward Lieth. The crooked detective gasped pitiful pleas. The Condor’s lips froze in a venomous leer.
As Lieth cowered away, Treft pressed his long, thin finger against the revolver trigger. With unerring aim, The Condor pumped shot after shot into the unprotected body of the quailing traitor.
Lieth sagged with the first bullet. His body was a motionless corpse upon the floor when Treft desisted.
With a gloating scoff, The Condor tossed the emptied revolver upon the bullet-riddled form.
“Prepare!” rasped The Condor to his henchmen. “To the gate! There we shall massacre those fools as I have finished with their tool!”
He pointed a scornful claw toward Lieth’s body; then chuckled with a venom that brought gloating laughs from his murderous henchmen.
“Trossler will remain here,” decided The Condor, as his henchmen brought revolvers into view. “He can guard the door until our return. We must first clear the way; then come back and remove the swag.
“We shall drive away in our own cars, from the garage. We shall dynamite the lodge. Until then, our swag is safe in the custody of the Singhalese. Should we find ourselves pressed for time, I can remove the swag in my own fashion.
“Have no worry. Our task is now one simple matter. We must clear that handful of meddlers from our path. Come! We are ready. Open the outer door, Trossler.”
“What about Marsland?” queried the servant, as he turned toward the hall. “Do you want him with you?”
“No,” decided The Condor. “His status is still doubtful. We can discuss his case later. Keep him in his room.”
Trossler moved out ahead into the hall, which was darkened. Guns clattered in the hands of The Condor’s henchmen. Murderers all, they were carrying a brace of weapons each. Faring forth behind their chief toward what they believed would be a certain victory.
The law had been crossed tonight, crossed by Carl Lieth, a man whose real role was that of crook. He had ruined a surprise attack; he had brought true facts to The Condor’s ears. Men of crime had heard his warning.
But The Shadow, using Corey as an instrument, had changed the status of Carl Lieth. The traitor lay dead upon the floor of The Condor’s study; his warnings were forgotten by those with whom he had sought to side.
The Shadow’s crafty strategy was bringing a handful of desperadoes into the waiting toils of three score men who held The Condor’s lair within a surrounding cordon.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE CONDOR’S THRUST
STEALTHY figures again were creeping through the night. This time, the attackers were coming from the confines of Mountview Lodge. Spread across the darkness of the broad lawn, The Condor and his tribe were converging toward the outer gate of the lodge
Eyes perceived those dim figures as they left the whiteness of the veranda. The Shadow, peering from the back of the coupe, laughed in whispered fashion at the success of his ruse.
Softly, his figure emerged from its hiding place. The Shadow, too, took to the lawn at the rear of creeping men. Another surprise attack was due to be heralded, too, soon; this time by The Shadow.
Figures had neared the gate. The Shadow was thirty yards behind them. His tall form rose in darkness.